


A deadline, a window, an opportunity, a game.

by Kru



Series: it's called beginning, not the end [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: BAMF Q, Birthday, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Bond pretends he should be in Prague, But he planned it all, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, He wants it all, M/M, Possessive James Bond, Q just pretends he don't want it, Rain, Towels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kru/pseuds/Kru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond thinks that showing at someone's doorsteps at 3:15 AM is the best idea of a birthday present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A deadline, a window, an opportunity, a game.

**Author's Note:**

> Always and forever BETED by Killym
> 
> Part of 'Four words challenge" - prompt given by Killym (WORDS TO USE: a deadline, a window, an opportunity, a game)
> 
> -also something that just bust in to my face after seeing Skyfall.

 

 

 

 

The bell rings so sudden he almost spills his tea on the laptop. Cursing badly, he puts it on a low table and rushes to doors but then stops in the hall, suddenly doubtful. It's quite unusual for him to have guests this late. He would even say it’s unusual for him to have guests at all, since there’s just a few people knowing his address and all of them are from work. They would call him, write a message but never get that far. Besides, he hardly knows anyone in London, that’s why when he sees a glooming figure on the other side of a frosty glass door, a blind panic hits him and shivers down his body. He goes back to the reception room and picks up the first object he might use as a weapon. With a metal poker in his hand, he slowly approaches the door, lifting them just enough to see who’s behind.

The surprise is so strong he swiftly jerks back. “Bond?” He says quietly, looking at the man standing at his doorstep, soaked with rain. “Do you know what hour is it?”

“A quarter past three in the morning,” the man answers automatically, putting his hand on the door, forcing them to open wider. “A poker? On the 00? I thought you could do better…”

“I’m surprised you think of me at all,” the younger man smirks, letting Bond in. “To what do I owe the questionable pleasure?” He adds, watching the man looking around his apartment.

Bond completely brushes off his question, but that’s his usual behavior, the man is famous of his ignorance. His second name should be ‘ignorance’, actually the young man thinks when the agent finally looks at him. Bond is slowly estimating Q’s body from the tip of his toes all the way up to the young man’s face. Along with ambiguous silence and a hint of outspoken words it makes him feel uncomfortable, almost ashamed.

“I was expecting some fancy, modern apartment stuffed with high tech” the older man finally says, smiling a bit. “Instead you have this old fashioned, two bedroom place at Kensington. It’s strange to feel surprised.”

“I’m sorry for being a continuous disappointment for you, 007.”

“It's James,” the man corrects him. “Have you already forgotten my name?”

“James…”

“Q?”

“You’re ruining my African floor,” he says and points at the rug, showing to the man how the water from his trench drips and sinks in, wetting the perfectly polished wood.

"Invite me in then."

"At three in the morning?" Q asks doubtfully but gives up in the same moment, knowing perfectly well that Bond always gets what he wants. He’s already used to it. "I will bring you the towel but I still want to know what are you doing here instead of in Prague?"

He throws away the poker, it was useless anyway, and rushes to the kitchen.

"They called it off" He hears behind when he’s looking for something that might help Bond dry up and go home. "So I thought I could see these famous pajamas of yours." The man adds, standing just behind Q.

The younger man tenses and flicks again when the words are said and a hot breath suddenly caresses his bare neck. He’s about to reach for the top shelf to take the towel but as he feels two strong hands on his hips, the fabric slicks from his fingers. The whole pile of towels falls on him when he turns back swiftly to face Bond. Now the agent is so close he can see all blue shades that compose into these perfectly light, intense eyes.

„Your window of opportunity is closing.” The man whispers into his ear, leaning even closer and pressing him harder against the cupboard.

Q smirks, closing his eyes as the pleasure spreads through his body.  He feels the tempting touch of a hot tongue moving slowly along his jaw line, making him utterly ready for this game. “I hardly remember we agreed on a deadline, Bond.”

“You already missed it” the man says, running his hand down Q’s chest, feeling the slender shapes of his young body. “Eve told me about your birthday.” 

His fingers are pressing slightly, rolling Q’s t-shirt up just with his fingertips, his lips already close to the other’s man mouth. Bond licks gently just for try, just for the first taste but as he hears a surprised and a content moan, he pushes Q harder, desperately biting into his lips. 


End file.
